


A Study in Blue

by chucks_prophet



Series: The Mailman's Vengeance [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is that Guy We All Wish We Could Have, Dean has a secret, Firefighter Dean, First Dates, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Nurse Castiel, Plot Twists, Shy Dean, but what's new, some sexual references but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7621375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s eyes widen to match the balls of mashed potatoes on his plate. He’s been nervous for a little over a few hours since he’d audaciously asked Cas on a date, and Cas hinted doing something later. At least Dean thinks he did. With women, he can tell from the get-go with exaggerated, high-pitched laughter and unnecessary touching, but men… men are mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Blue

**Author's Note:**

> From: otpprompts.com
> 
> Person A gets stood up, but gets talking to Person B (Who is renowned for their player lifestyle). This leads to them making out outside the bar, but Person A freaks out because they’ve never had sex with someone of that gender (or just not at all). Somehow they end up sitting on a rooftop, sharing a beer and their deepest secrets.
> 
> I thought this went well with my original story. I rearranged the order of the events, but I still kept it true.
> 
> Thank you for your requests on continuing this! I'm glad I could give the story some closure.
> 
> If you haven't read the fic before this, don't fret. If you want to read it, I'll leave the link in the text.

Roy’s Rib & Roast is a small shack parked on the lush outskirts of Tuttle Creek. Known as one of the country’s leading states in largest cattle population, Kansas needs a strong underwriter to live up to their reputation. Roy’s does just that with the help of their sauce. It’s a mouth-tinging combination of cayenne pepper and smoked paprika mixed with regular BBQ, which, to the naked eye, looks like Martian soil when it’s brushed over a baby back, but when it hits the tongue, it’s an explosion of zing and zest. It’s heartburn inducing, but better than any bottled sriracha.

Except, Dean’s heart’s burning for an entirely different reason. Across the table is Cas, his neighbor—a man he [met through a circumstance involving, ahem, adult magazines](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7602028)—and one of the most beautiful men he’s ever laid eyes on. (You know, next to the monthly ones on the covers of _Riders with Rumps.)_  His lips are Dean’s favorite quality. It’s like he’s staring into a dark blue oblivion while his mind (and other parts of him) falls into Cas’s husky hypnoses.

“You’re joking.”

“Swear on my life.”

“Wow,” Dean replies, “if I had known you got stood up here once _…_ ”

Cas smiles, a beautiful thing that stretches across the tanned and lightly stubbled plains of his cheeks. “How could you have known? Besides,” he says, splitting two ribs down the middle with the ease of his slender fingers, “he’s the one missing out on far more than a good plate of ribs.”

Dean’s eyes widen to match the balls of mashed potatoes on his plate. He’s been nervous for a little over a few hours since he’d audaciously asked Cas on a date, and Cas hinted doing something later. At least Dean _thinks_ he did. With women, he can tell from the get-go with exaggerated, high-pitched laughter and unnecessary touching, but men… men are mystery. The only thing Dean really knows about them is their anatomy.

“Uhm… so you said you’re working to become a doctor?”

Cas nods in a way that implies there’s a long, most likely very expensive story. “Finally. I’m three semesters away from getting two letters added to my name.”

Dean laughs, “When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound very fiscally responsible.”

“Oh, believe me; nursing school hit out of the ballpark figure too, but… I don’t know,” Cas says, a wistful look in his eyes. He smiles, nonetheless. “When I think of all the people I’ve helped—all the people I’m _going_ to help—it’s all worth it.”

“I get that. My mom passed in a house fire, our old house, in my little brother’s nursery. And he let us know he was in there with her, crying like a… well, _like a baby,_ so my dad scooped him up, dropped him in my arms, and told me to run outside as fast as I can. I was barely five, so I stumbled a little, but we made it out with my dad fast behind us. He, uh, had a hard time leaving. We all did.” Dean’s lips twitch into a tight smile before he runs a hand over his face. “Anyway, uh, yeah, that’s how I got into it. Been saving people since.”

“Dean…”

“Cas, it’s okay. I overshare, that’s what I do.”

“No, you have a little…” Instead of finishing, Cas dips his napkin in his water, leans over, and dabs at Dean’s cheek. Dean watches in fascination as Cas holds out the makeshift wippie to show him. _Oh._ Barbeque sauce. Realizing their proximity, Cas quickly sets the napkin aside and flushes red. “Old habit. You’re not the only big brother at this table.”

“Cas, be honest with me.”

Cas bites his lip like a child lying through his two front teeth, and sits back down. “Yeah?”

“Are you _trying_ to get me to make out with you?”

“Depends,” Cas says, grinning, “did it work?”

Dean tosses a twenty on the table. “Let’s find out.”

***

Dean’s a far cry from pious. Especially when his job requires paying a visit to Hell: The screaming, the carnage, the flames licking his suit. But the one form of clarity he’s received in a long time is in Cas’s mouth.

They’ve gone from experimental kissing—wherein Dean discovers how much he loves the feeling of another man’s stubble on his face and the remarkably soft hint of tongue—to kissing with feverish hands and legs; the kind that steals your breath away and replaces it with someone else’s.

Which means, sooner than later, Cas’s hand cups over Dean’s half-hardness. Dean recoils.

"Dean, it's okay you know," Cas reassures, minty white kernels in his mouth popping out. He kisses Dean’s neck. "If you haven't had sex with another man, I mean. I didn't even get it _up_ until my late teens, at least—"

"It's not that," Dean says, trying and failing to put on a genuine smile himself. "I haven’t uhm... I haven't done anything, period. With anyone." Cas doesn't mean to, but his mouth flops like a swimmer hitting the open water after a belly dive, causing Dean to wriggle out of Cas's embrace. "Sorry, I'm just gonna go—”

"Dean," Cas says softly, pinning him against the back wall of the restaurant again like a thumbtack, "do you think lacking a certain skill makes you less attractive?"

Dean huffs, "Well, _no,_ but—"

"Do you think I'll judge you?"

"Well... yes."

Cas's eyes wash over Dean's with careful determination. Then he kisses him. This time, it's leisurely, like a stroll in the park or stargazing, except the stars are in Dean's eyes when he pulls away. "Dean, I'm only surprised because you're so _gorgeous._ ”

“Really?”

Cas nods. “Really. And we have all the time in the world. That is… if you want to see each other again. We don't have to do anything you're not ready for, okay? This isn't an arm's race, this is your body.”

“Hell yeah,” Dean affirms, grinning as he holds his finger to Cas’s chest. “I just have one question: What if," Dean starts, hands exploring the map of Cas’s ass, “ _my_ arms want your body wrapped around mine?"

Cas hangs his head in the crook of Dean’s rightfully bruised neck. "That was bad."

"I tried."

"You did. I appreciate that."

Dean laughs. Their eyes lock, but there's no rom-com follow through, only Dean's hand skating towards Cas's neck to comb through his distressed hair. "You know, for someone so invested in skin mags, you'd think I'd take up an equally gorgeous man's offer."

"Who me? I didn't offer anything."

"But if you did?"

Cas purses his lips in thought, but doesn't have to search his hat too much to find the rabbit. If he was donning magician's attire, he'd look like a hypothermic penguin from the intense blushing. "I'd offer to go back to my place and watch the latest _Star Trek_ movie on the rooftop. Popcorn included."

"Well," Dean says, wrapping his arms around Cas's waist again to pull him just underneath the hood of his nose with a smile, "then I'd take you up on that offer."

 


End file.
